


Holding onto the before

by sketzocase



Category: All New Wolverine, Dark Wolverine (Comics), X-23 (Comic), X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Based loosely on Happy, Blood and Injury, Brain Damage, Criminal Underworld, Crooked Cops, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drug Withdrawal, Drugged Sex, Drugs, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Injustice, Kidnapping, M/M, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Mobsters, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Violence, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Serial Killers, Stockholm Syndrome, Threats of Violence, Unstable Characters, Violence, drug induced amnesia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 16:05:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17511683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sketzocase/pseuds/sketzocase
Summary: An x-men mission goes awry when Daken gets a little carried away whilst undercover. Tricked into ingesting a new drug (and injected several times against his will)he’s suffering from some form of brain damage. Which would be all fine and well if he hadn’t stumbled upon Romulus’s biggest fan- an odd man with a ‘collection’ of mutants and a mysterious link to the underbelly of New York - including several mob families. It’s up to Daken, his fellow captives, and whoever he can get to believe him to escape the mad man’s clutches. In plotting to escape, they learn just how deep this rabbit hole goes.





	Holding onto the before

**Author's Note:**

> So this was inspired by the Syfy show “Happy” which upon discovering I have dutifully watched five times. (It is very, very, very good) So it gave some ideas to play around with and....yea. This fic was born. 
> 
> Also the other inspiration was the Netflix show “you”.   
> And its very experimental- due to my being put on pain meds for a health problem and deciding to write anyway.
> 
> So... violence, non/con, kidnapping, psychological manipulation, lots of drug use-mainly non consensual, troubled narrative..... and that’s about it.
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please enjoy this weird little trip I’ve made!

Tick tock. Tick tock. 

Seconds. Minutes. 

All kept in line by the clock. 

The Clock- a big grandfather clock- side of the wall. Tick. Tock. Tick. 

over and over. 

Some rhyme about a mouse or some shit. 

God I can’t remember. 

My head feels.... bad. 

No- not bad. Something more elegant than bad. 

It... 

Ouch. 

Thinking hurts. 

My body is... sore. Bloody. 

What... what did they hit me with? 

I... was undercover. At a party. Took drugs. I think I got shot... I don’t... I don’t remember. 

The ‘before’ is now blurring with the ‘now’ and the ‘future’. 

Tick tock. Tick tock. 

Mouse. Clock. 

Little mice scamper in this room- mice. Clock. 

Hickory something or other? 

God my head hurts. 

Every second... every ..... what am I thinking? 

it hurts. God it hurts. 

Ti- where is here? 

Why am I here? 

Why... is the room full of dead bodies?

Food for mice. 

‘Mice need to eat too, Daken’- echos from ‘before’ mixing in with the ‘now’. 

In a few moments- there won’t be a ‘before’. Just a ‘now’. 

The world... the world is so small when it’s just a ‘now’. 

Something courses through my brain- not my mind- my physical organ.

Tick tock tick tock- mice need to eat too, Daken. 

The faint memory of a shitty Chinese take out ‘dinner’ with... my... 

The woman. And the girl. 

My...? 

Tick tock. Tick tock. Mice. Mice and Kung pow chicken. 

Mice need to eat too. 

The woman.... the... sister. 

Sisters. 

Not here. Not in the room full of mice chow. 

Tick tock. tick tock. Scurry up the clock. Wait for midnight. More Chinese take out. 

Stained paper containers with labels that non Mandarin speakers think look ‘artsy’. 

Same as tourist getting Japanese tattoos that look ‘cool’ and ‘edgy’ but end up saying something asinine like ‘chicken soup’. 

Stained boxes. 

Stale food. 

Tick tock tick tock tick tock. 

My eyesight is shot. I can see about three inches in front of my face. 

But I smell.... death. 

Almost as bad as the shitty chicken. 

Mice chow. Little mice with little salt and pepper shakers- little knives and forks. 

Waiting for midnight. 

midnight... 

Something... something was supposed to happen at midnight. 

Something... something has gone wrong. Terribly wrong. 

Tick tock... the clock stops ticking. The soothing repetitive noise stopped in an instant. 

Now where will the mice go? 

How will they track the time? 

I hold my breath for a long few seconds- waiting for the clock. 

Ten seconds- it starts up again. 

The mice can rejoice. 

We can all rejoice. The wonderful grandfather clock has told us the time. 

‘Keeping in time and rhythm is important Daken- it’s all about the timing’. 

You hear that, mice? Timing. 

My head.... oh... 

I try to hold onto the ‘before’. Anything from before. 

I can remember old before- from when I was a child. But not recent ‘before’. I don’t... I don’t know what I’m doing here. 

I curl up on... whatever it is I’m on. It’s soft. But wet. Smells like piss. 

Piss is one of the few scents I can still pick up. 

My nose... broken. Can’t smell anything but past scents from the ‘before’ and piss. 

I hope it’s my piss. 

I’m not a fan of water sports. I’d hate to be lying in someone else’s piss. 

Maybe it’s so the mice will leave me alone. 

They don’t like their food marinated. 

“I’d pay in a heart beat!” Someone from the other side of the room says enthusiastically. “Do you have any idea who that is???” 

“Right now?” A man with a thick jersey accent asks. “Brain zapped dancing monkey for all I care. You want him? I gotta clear the warehouse. Fucker didn’t die- he either needs to go somewhere or get dead. So I’m willing to cut a deal. Killing those healing bastards takes too much effort.” 

“You have no idea what you’ve stumbled into!” The man says enthusiastically- still. He’s happy to see me.... and I can’t remember if we’ve met before.“You are looking at the last remaining piece of an empire- thousands of years in the making- sculpted by a creator so... powerful,” he moans- which is weird. “And that? That ‘brain zapped dancing monkey’? Is his master piece.” 

Tick tock. Tick tock. 

Counting down seconds. 

I am not mice chow. 

I’m alive. no one else is alive. Just me. I’m special. 

I’m.... in pain. 

I have a fan. I’ve never had a fan before. 

“Hard to believe that was anyone’s ‘master piece’.” The man scoffs. “All I knows is we gotta move him before his sister comes to get him.” 

“Sister?” The man gags. “No no no. The clone was not involved with the ... original process. We’ve no need for her. We’ll be long gone and onto our new life by the time she gets here.” 

“I could think of a few ‘needs’ with the clone.” Someone off to the side jokes. “Wonder how much she’d pay to have her big brother back?” 

Sister... 

Sister? 

Green... green eyes? 

Black hair- like him. His ‘clone’. 

My... little sister. 

Not mice chow, I hope. 

I try to scent the room- but only smell piss. 

Laura... gabby... not mice chow. 

God don’t let them be two of the bodies in this room. 

“I’d bet she’d do just about anything,” The Jersey man laughs. “Might settle the tab in trade- if you know what I mean.” 

L...laura. Gabby. Trade? 

No. 

“Ms. Kinney would be in for a shock anyway,” The jersey man says. “Big bro isn’t really... all there. Is he?” 

L..laura? Coming? Here? 

Yes. Please. 

“All there?” The other man asks. 

Footsteps echo as the men convene over my head. “He’s brain damaged,” The Jersey man says. “Side effect of the drugs. Might stay that way for a while- who knows?” 

“I don’t care what state he is,” The enthusiastic man says. “He’s a work of art. Frame worthy.” 

“Yea...” the jersey man drawls. “I’ll give him to ya for 15k- how bout that? Good deal? You can.... frame him or whatever the hell you want. You just have to move him within the next two hours. Comprendo?” 

“Si.” 

Neither of these men speak Spanish. At least- the don’t look like they would. 

“Good. Now...” 

The man over me is bent at the waist- lifting my head to get a better look. “Money’s on the table,” He says- not taking his eyes off me. “Oh you magnificent thing,” He coos. “The last living piece of a dynasty.” 

“F- u—- c-“

“Awh.” He pouts. “You can’t talk. That’s okay,” he soothes, taking me by the face. “Words aren’t necessary. You’ve stumbled upon the one man in creation who knows what you are,” He whispers. “The Golden boy. The favorite child. The magnificent weapon.” He closes his eyes and inhales. “Your Master was my biggest inspiration,” He whispers. “I saw the two of you once..... and I tried so hard to replicate what I saw.” He exhales slowly. “But you know- edging into that territory- not a good idea- am I right?” He laughs to himself. “I tried to create more... you- Daken- but they kept dying. You’ve no idea how many brats I buried. Not a single one of them could hold a candle to you....” My vision is not good- all I see are shiny metallic lips- lipstick? “And here you are! Caught on the wrong side of a drug epidemic. Brain damaged-“ 

“Fu-“ 

“Shh shh. Words aren’t necessary. You can’t enunciate them anyway. Years of my life spent tracking your master-“ he stops “Our master. Seeing you- you-“ He pokes my chest. “The blood, the sex, the gore- and you... oh my god- I’m fanboying all over myself.” He inhales deeply, “I followed Romulus’s every move,” He says. “I watched in awe and... oh amazement. No one could hold a candle to him! Then your father... oh your stupid idiotic careless father- took him out in the prime of his life.” He leans in my ear. “I hate him for that- just as much as you do.” 

I try to move- but my body is not reacting to my minds instructions. 

“And after all these years... I come to this dilapidated warehouse in the middle of New York to pick up some loose ends from some super asshole mission gone wrong... and there you are,” He says in awe. “Laying in your own piss. Brain zapped. Who needs that brain anyway- huh? You’ve got a pretty face. You’ll go further on looks than brains.” 

L-Laura. 

Somewhere near. 

Com... com link! I have to find my com link! Tell her where I am! Get away from this nut job. 

I try to move- but can’t. 

“Oh don’t think so hard, my treasure,” He coos. “You’ll get worry lines.” He strokes my face. 

“Look- freakshow,” The Jersey man says. “You paid your cash- quit the foreplay and take the asshole out of here already. Reports say that x-men are on the ground two blocks over.” 

Those shiny lips frown. “X-men? Oh you poor thing. Really fallen on hard times- haven’t you?” 

F—fuck.   
I hold onto to the ‘before’. What little I have left of it. 

Laura. Gabby. Shitty Chinese takeout in their apartment. 

Tick... tock. 

Mice need to eat. 

Timing is everything. 

Time... time... I’m stuck in time. 

Half of what I know I am- and half of what I actually am- mixing together into this... mess. Prime real estate for psychopaths and freaks. 

Before. Remember before. 

Laughter. 

The bright colors of their TV. 

Small TV. 

I... think before. I told them I’d get them a new one. 

That’s from the before. 

“I’m guessing your little brain was already fucked up before the drugs- hmm? There were always rumors that you were a big user.” he leans closer to me. “Drugs aren’t good, you know. Especially when you can’t trace where they come from. If you don’t know where they come from- then you don’t know what they’re spliced with. It’s a very foolish thing to do to accept drugs from someone you don’t know.” 

Foolish. 

Drugs? 

Yes. Drugs. Lots of drugs. 

“I sincerely hope you’ve learned your lesson,” He says patronizingly. 

I’ve got to do something. Anything. 

I feel something rising within me. Rage. Energy- Uh no. 

I puke all over myself. 

Vomit. It was vomit. 

“What dose did they hit him with?” The man asks to his companion. 

“Dude was a fuckin’ animal,” Jersey says. “We hit him with twelve darts and he still kept coming.” 

“Oh you poor dear,” The man tuts. “Your kind never know when to take a beating- hmm? You had to keep going. You had to keep pushing. Push push push. Forward. Now... look at you.” he sighs. “So beautiful in your own self destruction. So many possibilities to move forward! You’ve fallen into the hands of the one person,” he whispers, “That can appreciate you fully. For everything you are. Everything. You. Are. I have so many ideas...” 

I groan. 

“Oh no, no, no,” he says quickly. “Not like that. I don’t want to hurt you.” Those metallic lips smile. “Why on earth would I want to do that? You’re mine. Completely mine. I have to take care of you, darling.” 

“The drug is 

supposed to be crazy addictive,” The Jersey man says. “He’ll be in withdrawal-“ 

“No he won’t. We will easily replace it. Won’t we, my sweet?” 

I swallow blood and spit. 

I feel woozy. All I want to do is lay down. 

My skin is hot and itchy- like a million insects marching up my body. 

“He was trying to work a sting operation,” The jersey man says. “Boss caught on right away- had some ‘friends’ distract him. Dope him up. By the time he came after us- he was already lit. Maybe that’s why it took so many darts to take him down.” He sounds like he’s in thought. “That’s besides the point,” He says. “He was working with the x-men- they don’t often leave one of their own behind. He probably has some kind of tracking device. Might wanna check that out before you move him to wherever the hell you’re taking him.” 

“Drugged and shot- hmm? Well, that’s what we get for working with x-men,” he says ‘sternly’, “Now isn’t it?” He crouches down over me. “Do you have anything that they can track?” 

I close my eyes. 

“Then we’ll have to pat you down, my dear.” He stands up and disappears. 

Tick tock. Mice. 

He’s back by the 50th tick of the current now. 

“Scissors,” He explains- brandishing the device in my limited eyesight. “Hold very still.” 

He removes what’s left of my costume. 

“I’ve always wondered,” he says, removing cloth, “If you lot wore underwear underneath these things.” There’s a small chuckle. “I guess you don’t.” 

My com link... in my-

“A ha.” He pulls it out of.. somewhere. I can’t remember where I Put it. “Nasty things. Bugs. Telling on people. You’re no snitch though. I know that. Your horrible sisters made you wear this- didn’t they? You wouldn’t have worn it on your own.” 

He takes the device and cuts the cord with the scissors before smashing the ear piece on the ground and stomping on it. 

He lifts me into his arms- which surprises me because I think he’s on the smaller side of things. 

“Shush shush my dear,” He coos as we move through the warehouse. “I have so much respect for you. So much... awe. You are a work of art. Every stray hair artistically framed... the costume hanging off of you oh so perfectly- ever the little seductress- aren’t you?” 

The air gets cold. I puke again- not able to see well enough to aim. 

“Oh darling,” The man tuts. “Look what they’ve done to you. Open the door,” He says to someone else a second before he lays me in the back of a van. “It’s no limo..... but you understand our need for secrecy.” He laughs a second. “Oh. That’s right. You don’t. We’ll hope the brain damage lessens a little bit as the days go on.” 

Brain... damage? 

Brain.... damage. 

Drugs. Darts. Vat . Bathtub full of... oh fuck what was it full of?

I’m forgetting the entire point of our mission. 

He leans over and kisses my forehead. “They’re calling that chemical a ‘liquid lobotomy’. Isn’t that just darling?” All I see is that shiny lipstick. “You’ll fit in right at home with the others,” He says, closing the door. 

It’s dark, my head is spinning, my stomach is churning- outside the tinted windows of the van- the only thing my fading vision will let me see is a lit snowflake- one of those... oh... those... things they hang of light poles. Christmas. 

In the before, I probably would have fought harder to not be taken to a secondary location. 

Things don’t make sense in the ‘now’. 

I... I don’t know what to do. 

I.... I need someone to tell me what to do. 

I feel a sense of danger.... but... ah.. my head. I can’t... focus on it. 

Something is wrong.   
Something has gone terribly wrong. 

Midnight. 

Stroke of midnight. 

The... the warehouse was not where I was supposed to be. 

The dead... the dead people were not supposed to be dead. 

I .. was supposed to stop them.   
Mice need to eat too.... circle of life... for every entering soul there’s one exiting. 

Guess that means that there were a lot of babies born tonight. 

So... so many dead people. 

I couldn’t keep track. 

They... just... they... oh. Wait. 

My head. God my head. 

They weren’t supposed to die. 

No one was supposed to die. 

I .. I am not supposed to go with this man. 

I need... Ah fuck. I almost had it. 

Thoughts faded- gone. I can’t call it back into existence. 

None of my thoughts will stay and play..... like when I was little. In the before the before- no one wants to play with me. 

Loneliness is the human condition- That’s a clip from the before. 

‘You don’t need people, Daken. You are better than them. You are stronger than them. You need only one person.’ 

Him. 

I remember him in the before. 

I pray he never turns up in the ‘now’. 

Gone. Left. Poof. 

Like my thoughts. 

No one wants to stay with me. 

No one mourns when the villains fall. 

No one... my head. 

I put my right hand on my forehead- massaging my temples. 

I can’t remember what is going on.... am I upset? Should I be upset? 

Where... where is here? 

Dark. Cold. 

The floor is hard. 

Taken to a secondary location.... shouldn’t they have offered me candy or something? 

Those poor mice. 

Those poor dead people. 

Shells. That’s what they looked like. People shells. 

Husks. 

Like lobsters. 

Ha. Lobsters. 

Molt- like snakes. 

Snakes eat mice. 

Poor mice. 

I hear men talking- distantly. Something about the drug. Brain damage. Alluding the heroes. 

Best way to allude heroes is to make them uncomfortable. Point out their ‘not so perfectness’. 

‘No one cares, Daken. Universal. When given the choice- people will always put themselves first.’ 

Clips from the before. 

Hard lessons my brain doesn’t let me forget- even now. 

People are just naturally evil. 

Bad. 

I.... am... oh fuck. Hurt. My head hurts. My chest hurts. My stomach hurts. 

Why am I hurting so much?? 

Won’t they do.. something? 

The van starts moving and I get violently ill. Over and over again. The van doesn’t stop. 

Tick tock. Tick tock. Mouse. Clock. Clones. Drugs. Bathtub full of... Clock? Mouse? 

Tick tick tick tick tick. 

Ticking time bombs. 

Everyone. 

‘You, Daken.’ 

‘Borrowed time.’ 

‘Lucky to have made it this far.’ 

All from the before. 

The land before the land before times. 

Movie. Singing dinosaurs. Childhood garbage. 

My stomach clenches in a knot- I try to close my eyes and settle it through thoughts... but my thoughts are... not good. Not consistent. 

This man.... with the shiny lips.... took me....

God I almost had it. 

I don’t even know the story at this moment. 

It’s like my life is a movie... and I’m just a random extra in it. 

I am clearly not in control here. 

Control means....   
....everything. 

Power. 

Men will do anything for power. 

They.... use.... things- no people. They use people... to get power.... by means of control... and-

Fuck. There it goes again. 

I almost had it. 

I’m so close. So so close. 

I bite my lip- it’s bloody. 

My stomach churns again.

I vomit things I don’t recall eating- ever. 

It’s warm. 

That or my skin... is .. not warm. 

What’s the opposite of warm? 

Not warm. 

Hot. 

COLD! My skin- oh my skin is cold. 

Finally the van stops. 

The men are playing an 80’s station on the radio. 

Synthesizers and keyboards. 

What a unique sound the 80’s had. 

What a wonderful soundtrack to be kidnapped to. 

Kid... kidnapped? 

Yes- taken to a secondary location. 

Com link destroyed. 

Kidnapped. 

Sold? 

Supply and demand. Shit like that. 

Over and over my head throbs- the same useless five thoughts on repeat. 

The men up front shut the radio off. Talking about... getting coffee or something. 

I vomit so harshly that my throat aches. I can’t see- but I imagine I’m puking up blood. 

If I throw up all my blood... will it stop? 

Can I do that? 

Can a person do that? 

The lines between what is ‘real’ and what is ‘not’ are as blurry as the lines of ‘before’ and ‘now’. 

Anything is possible. 

Nothing is possible. 

Not.... my head. God. Lost it again. 

The backdoors are opened, revealing three men- or that is, the outline of three men. I can’t see worth shit. I hope I never see again. To be blind. To never have to suffer the indignities of life with my own eyes. 

Something scampers on the ground by their feet. 

Mouse? 

Away from the clock and the ticking? 

Horrible place for a mouse. 

Horrible place for... me? 

I suppose it would be easier to decide if this was a bad place for me... if I could see it. 

But then- I don’t want to see. 

Everything is made of riddles. 

Everything is and at the same time it isn’t. 

Like being high on... acid. 

Did... Did I take acid? 

My brain... it burns. 

My head feels like someone’s soaking it in boiling water. 

‘Be a big boy now, child. It doesn’t hurt that bad.’ 

Before me- little me- could have handled this. 

Big me.... I just want to cry. 

Sleep. And cry. 

“Oh look at the mess you’ve made,” The shiny lipped man tuts. “I guess it’s time for a bath- hmm? Might as well get you cleaned up before dinner.” He leans forward. “Where you get to meet your siblings,” He whispers. “They’re so excited to see you!” 

L-laura. Gabby. 

He’s got them?

I have ... I have to go with him. To get to them. To escape. 

Yes! That is what I have to do. 

Laura... can make time stop jumping. Stop blurring. 

If she is in the ‘now’ I know it is safe. 

It takes all my energy and will power to extend my arm to him. It barely moves. 

I barely move. 

My legs and brain are having a disagreement. 

Brain says ‘go’ and legs say... ‘no’. 

I don’t know which to trust. 

My brain is.. not working... right. 

My body is also not working. 

Maybe I shouldn’t trust either of them. 

Is this... is this how you have an out of body experience? 

My life is a show and am I not the main character. 

Mice. Ha. The mice run the show. 

Scamper scamper scamper-

“Ugh, someone dispose of that retched thing before it makes it into the house,” The shiny lipped man says- I see through blurred vision that the little mouse is picked up and tossed over a nearby fence. 

“What?” The man who tossed it says. “It wasn’t hurtin’ anyone. I didn’t see a need to kill it.” 

“How can you have such a soft heart in this line of business- Marco?” His companion taunts. 

“Mouse didn’t do anything,” The man defends his actions. 

I puke again- trying to roll away from the man. 

“Now now, my gem,” He says. “All that tossing about is just going to make you sicker. Hold still.” 

Stiff as a board. 

Stiff as a corpse. 

Cold... hot.. cold again. 

I reach my arm out for him. Things ... don’t... get better... until... I get inside. 

Yes! There’s a complete thought in the right direction. 

Inside.... my ‘now’ has to happen in where ever it is that these men came from. 

The place the mouse wasn’t allowed to go. 

“Oh my sweet prince- I’m not going to touch you,” He coos. “You’re covered in ick.” He snaps his fingers. “Take him upstairs to the bathroom. Have Nanny draw a bath.” 

“Yes sir,” Two men say. 

“Cleanliness is next to godliness- you know, my sweet,” He says. 

I’m removed from the van- I try in vain to note my surroundings. 

Arches- glass- marble floor- stair case. 

Wooden walls. 

A chill in the air. 

Step by step- the man holding me has keys in his pocket. They jingle in time with his steps. 

“Where are the others?” His friend asks. 

“Watching TV. Waiting to eat- probably. You know how they don’t get to eat without the boss’s permission.” 

Others? 

Up the stairs we go. Step by step by step. 

This is the new ‘now’. The ... place I just came from is the new ‘before’. 

Old ‘befores’ are rendered useless with the new press of scents and information. 

It’s like my ... brain...can only hold so much. 

Too many old ‘befores’. Clashing through my mind. 

‘Timing is everything’  
‘Presentation is everything’   
‘Hidden intentions are everything’  
‘Everyone answers to someone- you know that, don’t you? Everyone. World wide.’   
‘Pain is fleeting. It helps you heal.’ 

The man holding me sits me down on the closed lid of a toilet. 

A small woman moves about the large bathroom- running water, procuring soaps and shampoos, towels, wash cloths. 

The ‘now’ consists of two men and the small woman- all talking amongst themselves. 

“It’s too early to add a new addition.” The woman is scowling. “I thought we agreed that we would wait at least two years before adding another.... possession to our trove. It’s only been a year and a half since the last one. And I still can’t control the blasted thing! Now he’s adding another??” 

One of the men leans on the side of the wall- the room is too bright for me to really focus on anything. I can’t see- so I don’t strain myself trying. I need to focus on the before. I need to remember how I got here. Why I got here.   
I need to hold onto the answers I have within me- the ones I don’t recall at the moment- and keep them with me. 

The fate of my existence depends on it. 

That- that is my ‘now’. 

Dire. 

Painful. 

‘Pain helps you grow- Daken. Never underestimate the power of human suffering.’ 

Old clips and phrases. 

I’d rather listen to the clock. 

“This one was an impulse purchase,” One of the men says. “Boss man wouldn’t get another chance to nab him if he didn’t act at that very moment.”

“Is that so?” The woman huffs. “And I wonder what makes this one so important?” 

“Eh- something about belonging to a man the boss apparently had a huge boner for.” 

Gross. 

“Don’t matter much now,” The second man who hasn’t spoken yet says. “He’s here. Boss wants him clean. Might need some doctoring up as well.” 

“Doctoring up?” The woman asks. 

“He’s puking his guts up. Boss wants him at dinner tonight. I personally don’t think it’s a reasonable request. But hey- that’s just me.” 

“Go fetch my first add kit,” The woman says. “We’ll fix up the nausea.” 

“Sure thing.” One of the men leaves. 

The woman leans down in my face. “Can you move?” She asks. 

I stare at the bright wall behind her. 

“Oh wonderful. Another mute,” She huffs. “Up you go.” She forces me to my feet by grabbing my arms. “Nice and easy,” She says in a mockery of kindness. “Sit sit sit.” 

Water. Warm.   
Warm warm water. 

“That’s it.” The woman says. “You like being clean- hmm? You’re not going to be another filthy animal. We’ve too many of those.” She runs her hand through my hair. “I’m usually opposed to... expressive hair styles... but this one- I like.” 

“He’s a looker,” The man says. “Boss is gonna have a field day with him.” 

Boss. boss? 

“Yes well we’ll have to get him functional first.” She leans in my ear. “The first few days are always the hardest, dear heart. But if you do what you’re told when you’re told to do it? You’ll be just fine.” She dumps water over my head. The sudden occurrence shakes something loose in my mind. 

Laura. Gabby. Warehouse. Mutant killing drug. 20 people dead.

My sisters....

Here?   
Why would they......

Siblings. 

He said siblings. Laura and Gabby-hidden in the new ‘now’.

I open my mouth to ask about them- but end up puking in the water. 

“Oh look what you’ve done!” The woman admonishes. “Get out of there.” She yanks me from the water- sitting me down on the toilet seat again- dripping water all over the tile floor. “You sit right there.” She says. “If you move- you’re in trouble. Got it?” 

My head is heavy- I let it hang. 

“Brain damage.” The man says. “Don’t worry about it- I’ll make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.” 

“I’ve got to go get him some clothing.” She says. “Keep him here.” 

“You got it, Melody.” 

“Thank you,’ the woman says primly. 

There’s footsteps going away from me and a door that’s opened and closed. 

My company is leaning against the sink. 

“For what it’s worth,” he says after a moment of silence, “you probably would have ended up brain damaged even if they hadn’t shot twelve of those darts into you. I gotta admit bud- I saw some of the shit you’ve done before- you weren’t the most well off dude to begin with.” 

The before. 

He’s not important. 

The before is important. 

Stale Chinese. 

Christmas light snowflake. 

Mice. Ticking. 

No- no. 

That was the new before. I need the old before. 

‘I don’t like this idea.’ That’s what she said. ‘Too risky. You can’t control yourself.’ 

In the before- she was right. I couldn’t. I never could. 

‘We’ve got your back.’ 

The before time was... comforting. 

The now? Oh my stomach. My head. 

“Hey now,” The man says. “Don’t go passing out on me. Boss wants you at dinner. He wants to introduce you to all your brothers and sisters.” 

B...brothers?

“Ya- that look of confusion speaks volumes,” He laughs. “You get a whole new family. A perk of being a piece of art. Kept here with all the other pieces of work that Boss man decides to collect. He cleans you up. Shaves off the nasty edges. New coats of paint. Restoration to your faded colors. And then... poof. There you are. His little treasure. Bright and shiny. You really should thank your lucky stars that you’re sixth in his collection. You won’t believe what Micheal went through when he was all on his own. The pain. The suffering. The crushing loneliness.” He chuckles a little bit. “But you won’t go through that. Or if you do ... we won’t hear you.. ya know- cause you don’t talk?” 

Treasures? Restoration? 

A whole new family? 

That’s not fair. I just started getting used to my old one! 

“Yea... we injected some mice with some of that shit,” He says. “Fucking things went nuts. And you? Ha. Willingly ingested three hits on your own and then took twelve from them. Holy fuck dude. You pretty much brought this on yourself.” 

.... I always bring it on myself. Always. 

That’s something I remember from ‘before’ and ‘now’ and that I’ll remember in the future. 

“Have a little comfort in the days to come.” He says, taking out a cigarette and lighting it, taking an inhale. “You’re special. His other projects? The ones who aren’t ‘frame worthy’? Dead. Dead as a doornail. Maggot food.” 

Huh. 

“The man who made you.... must have been one hell of a man.” 

“Man?” The man’s head jerks to the doorway, finding his ‘boss’ standing there. “No, no, no. He was a god! A magnificent god of wrath.... I owe my very lifestyle to him.” He pauses. “Put that cigarette out, please. My sweet heart is nauseas. I don’t want the smell of smoke to add to it. He has very sensitive senses.” He walks into the bathroom and leans down in front of me. “Melody said you still have an upset tummy,” he says. “Can I take a look?” 

I keep my head down. 

He slowly pats my stomach, adding pressure in certain places. 

I wince and gag. 

“Yea? Oh that’s not good, is it?” He sucks his teeth. “Bit of Overdose- huh? Just another lesson learned in the ways of drugs- am I right?” 

I try to raise my head to look at him- but lose the will to do so halfway through the motion. 

“Lucky for you, my little duck, that I have something that will fix you right up,” He chuckles. “Well- almost. Won’t really do anything for your scrambled noggin.” He pats my stomach. “So firm. Here.” He pulls something out of his pocket. “Little bit of sunshine in a syringe,” He says with a smile. “Little prick now, dear.” he sticks me with something before pulling back. “Your eyes are so captivating,” He whispers. “So shiny- even though we both know nothings going on in that head of yours.” He chuckles. “Hmm? Got any profound thoughts?” 

Whatever he injected me with is making me... float. I feel dazed. 

“Do you want to meet your brothers and sisters?” He asks. “Hmm? I told them all about you.” 

I blink my eyes- trying to clear my vision. 

“Liquid sunshine is magic,” He whispers. “It makes you happy.” 

My head- I can’t hold it up. 

“Does my dove like being happy?” He asks. 

I like... I Like... 

What do I like? 

What.... do... I like? 

“Does he like being high?” He asks with a laugh. 

I close my eyes and lean forward. 

He takes me in his arms- holding me tight. “The wonders you’ve got bouncing around in that head of yours.” He kisses the side of my head. “The secrets. The truths. The beautiful beautiful trauma that made you.... and it’s all just fading away,” He whispers. “You don’t know where you are- you don’t know where you’ve been- you have no motor control. I think... I think you’ve lost control of your senses- as well. You just... are unraveling at my finger tips.” 

I groan- the only sound I can make. 

“Oh no, no, dear- that’s a good thing. I have you. I don’t need a weapon. I don’t need an assassin- your days in the field, so to speak, are done. I just need you. Empty headed and malleable.” He claps his hands together. “So.... let’s let nanny get you dressed.... and I’ll take you to meet your siblings. Carry is very excited to be getting another brother. She’s older than you are.” He whispers. “Actually- since I only deal in regenerators- You are the baby. Yup. Youngest by.... about fifty years. That’s Micheal- he’s the oldest. He’s a very good big brother. Then Nolan- he’s your second to oldest brother. Carry- the middle child. Ginger and Thomas we call the twins- they’re the same age. And then you. Wrapping us up. Six is a good number. I hadn’t planned for six at the time- but I can see this is going to go well.” His lips are still shiny. 

Who is this man? 

Why... am I here? 

These... siblings- are not mine. 

I ... I already have siblings. 

I have.... 

“There’s a thought,” He whispers, touching the side of my face. “And there it goes. Gone.” He kisses my forehead “Nanny- please dress him. Marco- carry him downstairs. We’ve a dinner to attend.” He leaves the room- leaving me with the woman. I still can’t see- everything is blurry and bright. Now, with the ‘liquid sunshine’ it’s fuzzy too. 

I don’t know what my ‘now’ is. 

I don’t remember any of my ‘befores’. 

I barely... remember my name. 

Nanny dresses me with ease before Marco lifts me to my feet and hoists me down a hallway. “Dinner’s not ready yet,” He says. “You sit here in the living room. Watch some cartoons?” 

Cartoons... do I like cartoons?

He puts me on a couch, rolling me onto my side to face a large TV with bright flashing colors. 

The room has other people, I sense it. I can’t see it- but I sense it. 

“I’m sure Father Dearest as explained that you’ve gotten a new brother,” He says to the people. 

There are a few murmured responses. 

“Good. He’s recovering from an overdose so don’t bother him. Everyone just... watch your cartoons. Okay?” 

More murmured responses. 

“Good.” Marco leaves and it’s terribly silent- save the TV which is playing some kind of kids show. 

“Ha. Look at that, Ginger,” A woman says weakly. “You’re not the prettiest anymore.” 

There’s a groan. “Take it back bitch.” 

“Oh you kiss our father with that mouth?” A man laughs. 

“Shut up Thomas.” 

“Father said he was the baby... wanna guess his age?” Another man asks. 

“28,” ‘Ginger’ says. 

“30,” ‘Thomas’ argues. 

“26?” Another woman proposes. 

The voices get closer to me. I close my eyes and try to block them out. 

“Hey.” Someone shakes my arm. “Hey kid.” 

I’m... not a kid. 

“Yoo hoo. Anyone home?” The man asks. 

“I heard Marco say they fried his brain,” One of the woman whispers. 

“That’s nothing, Carry- your brain’s permanently fried.” 

“What can I say? I’m ‘beautifully resilient’,” Carry says with an air of humor. 

“You’re a pain the ass,” A man replies grumpily. “And I for one am sick of the bullshit you all call down upon us. So leave the poor thing alone. He’s probably gone through hell and he doesn’t need you assholes crowding him.” 

There’s mumbled agreements. 

“Fucker can’t even see,” Carry mutters. 

I wish I could thank the man for calling them off of me. 

I watch the blurry bright colors on the TV. This show was made for small children. And I’ve seen it before in passing. Memes on the internet- in the before. 

Oh god the before. 

These people probably all had ‘befores’ too. And now look at them. 

“Can we change the fucking channel?” Someone groans into the silence. 

“Carry darling, I’ve told you fifty times that I don’t like that word.” The man- our captor says, walking into the room. 

“Sorry father,” She says quietly. 

“It’s okay my dear- but it’s really not any way for a lady to talk- now is it?” 

“No sir.” 

“There’s my good girl.” He laughs. “Have you all met your brother?” 

“He doesn’t talk.” 

“You are correct, Micheal. He doesn’t. And he probably won’t for a while. So lets go easy on him and keep our bickering down to a minimum- hmm?” 

“Yes father.” 

“Thank you my sweet.” The man crouches down by the couch- taking my face in his hands and shining a light into my eyes. “Hmm hmm hmm,” He says. “So many drugs. You’re a regular little junkie- aren’t you?” He laughs at his own joke. “My dears, if you would please move to the dining room...hmm?” The men and women slowly shift to their feet- I hear them almost stumbling about. “Daddy likes for his treasures to be... docile,” He explains. “So he drugs them. Just a little... attitude adjustment. You understand.” He pulls me to my feet and helps me stabilize myself before leading me to a room I can’t see- over powered with scents. 

He sits me in a chair, pushing it in behind me. 

“Tonight, we’re having beef,” He announces. “And everyone will eat, do you understand, Carry?” 

“Yes father.” 

“Good.” He sits in a chair near me. 

I am able to hold my head up for about a minute before ending up face down on the table. 

There’s a hushed laughter spreading through the others. 

“Darling you’re never going to get any food into you that way,” The man tuts. 

Someone comes in and fills glasses- but it’s not a normal liquid. It’s purple and... bubbly. 

No one seems to want to drink it. 

The man lifts my head up, looking at my eyes. I focus in on his shiny lips. “Oh you are far too gone to be here,” He says. “Let me call Nanny and she can take you to your room. We’ll come by and feed you shortly. Something easy to stomach, hmm?” 

“If he gets to eat in his room- I want to eat in mine,” One of the women says. 

The man is quiet for a moment before saying, “You are being very vocal tonight, my dear, and it is not a good look on you. Drink your juice.” 

“I won’t drink the fucking juice,” She hisses. 

“Carry- we’re about to have an incident,” He warns. “And you’ve been warned once already today.” 

“Bring it on. I’m sick to death of all this... bullshit!” The woman says. 

“Did you by chance spit out your vitamin this morning, dear?” 

“Those aren’t vitamins,” The woman growls. 

“I’m so sorry you feel that way, sweetheart, but you’ve no need to be so loud and cranky and disrupt the others.” 

“I want to go home,” She says flatly. 

“You’re welcome to leave at any time,” The man says. “Provided you can walk, unassisted, from your current spot to the front gates. You know that.” 

“Yea but every time I try- I end up passing out halfway into the yard and Nanny makes me lay in bed for three days.” 

“There’s no reason you can’t try again,” He says positively. “Other than, of course, the fact that if you fail- you will be tracked down. And if you get away- well... dear... your mind just.... isn’t there,” He says. “If you did leave your wonderful home where you are cared for so lovingly by a guardian who just wants you to be happy and healthy- to run amuck in the streets.... well they’d cart you off to the nearest looney bin. And you’d never get out. Now tell me, my dear, would you rather sleep on your nice queen sized bed... or on an institution cot?” His voice takes a dark tone. 

“Bed,” She says quietly. 

“Drink your juice.” 

There’s complete silence. 

I hear footsteps approach.

Before now- there was a sense of urgency. 

Now? 

Oh god. I just want to sleep. 

My head... my.... 

“Don’t you look pained?” He addresses me. “I don’t think your constitution was meant to be this overloaded with so many foreign substances.” He taps my shoulders. “But I’ll tell you what- we send you upstairs to my room- simply because I’m worried you’ll choke in your own vomit if left unattended tonight- and I’ll make sure you get something warm and yummy on your stomach. Then we’ll mess with pain meds and such.” 

There’s a harsh laugh from the end of the table. 

“Thomas, you have input?” 

The man goes quiet. 

“Thank you.”

The footsteps get closer, stopping beside the man’s chair. 

“Ah Nanny. Take Daken to my room- please. He’ll need extra care through the night, call the doctor and tell him to meet me there in twenty minutes- stay with him until I arrive.” 

“Yes sir.” She takes me by the shoulders. “Up you go.” 

I try to stand up but end up collapsing onto the floor. 

This is the new ‘now’. And I’m falling all over the place. I hate the new ‘now’. 

I was... graceful... in the before. 

I was....not...so... fucking... tired. 

I hurt so bad.   
I can’t even catalog it anymore. It just... hurts. Everything.. hurts. 

“Hmm.... call Marco,” The man says. 

The woman turns my head to the side and takes my pulse. 

“Sir, your affinity for drug addicts astounds,” She says. “Is it really wise to take this one on... considering... who he is?” 

“I have waited,” The man says lowly. “Thirty entire years to own a piece of this... magnificent tapestry of sin.... and toil... and violence..... and I’m expected to throw it away because it’s a little bit addicted to illicit substances? It’d be the same as asking me to throw out any number of note worthy artists from the past. Hello, Claude- you’re too unhinged to be mine- I’ll throw you to the next collector.” He glares at the woman. 

“Understood,” She says quietly. “Marco, please come to the dining room,” She says into a small... microphone? It echoes through the house on a PA system of some sort. 

The man doesn’t leave us waiting for long. 

“Take him to Sir’s room, please Marco. I’ll accompany you.” 

“Sure thing.” The man pulls me off the floor- making everything spin again. 

As we’re moving he whistles some kind song. A peppy one. 

“Told you this one was too trashed for dinner,” He says smugly, opening two large French doors to an even larger bedroom. 

“Yes well.... drug addicts are hard to anticipate.” 

“Oh yea?” He lays me on a large overstuffed bed. “This one is going to cause trouble- I can see it.” 

“We can deal with it.” The woman says with a long suffering sigh. 

“We could have another Carry.” 

“Don’t say that.” The woman groans. “That blasted thing- a year and a half I’ve spent on her. Does she have manners? No. Only when she wants something. Does she bend to the Sir’s whims? No. The measures we take to contain her are quite honestly shocking. Even more so since Sir outlawed the shock collar.” 

“Oh yea. I forgot that we use those.” 

“We were. Past tense. He won’t let us use them now.” 

“Not that that should matter,” Marco says. “This one looks pretty.... sickly.” 

“We will have to see,” She says, sitting on the bed beside me. “Rest now, you poor soul. You’re in great hands.” 

“Okay hands,” Marco chuckles. 

“Aren’t you needed elsewhere- Marco?” The woman hisses. 

“Hmm? Oh! Oh. Right. Right. Good luck with your brain damage dude!” He says, waving goodbye and leaving. 

“Brain damage or no, you are still expected to act like a proper person....” She says. “And you will. Do you understand?” 

Ugh. So much to track. 

I barely kept up with that conversation. 

The fuck were they even talking about? 

“Of course you don’t.” She sighs. “I’m guessing.... meth? Crack? Heroin? Acid? All of the above? That hair. That tattoo. And you’re a mutant too- no doubt. Probably got some nasty mutant tricks to pull when you’re... in a better state.” She hums to herself . “The truth here is my dear, there is no better state. You’re going to spend the rest of your days in some drugged bliss- which should make you very happy, now that I’m thinking about it. I don’t know who made you so important... but you will see. Everyone serves someone. And your life... if you can comprehend in your current state, has taken a turn for the more... exciting. You exist with a new purpose. And, when you can think thoughts that are complex enough, you may find yourself questioning what exactly you’ve done to deserve this purpose. Why exactly you’ve been plucked from your old life and thrown into a new one. You may think , fleetingly, that you don’t deserve this.” She chuckles to herself. “But you do. You and all the other mutant bastards. If you’re not under someone’s control- you destroy everything. Every single one of you. So when you decide to pull your little mutant tricks- just be warned- I will be there. And I will squash them.” 

Oh my head. 

What... is... 

God. 

What is she talking about? 

“I don’t suppose you know your exact pedigree- hmm? Where you come from? The ancestors who cursed you to this new life. It’s as much their faults as it is yours.” She pulls a sheet up my chest. “Nasty buggers- all of you. Don’t know why God almighty hasn’t smitten you out of existence. Freaks of nature. Abominations.” She pats my arms. “Oh sure, you look pretty enough- and you do, dear- but you’re sub human. All of you. That’s the main thing ol’ Nanny’s going to teach you. You are subhuman. And you have been brought here to live a life of luxury.” She leans over me. “Aren’t you just the luckiest boy to live?” 

Ugh. I close my eyes- wiling the room to stop spinning. 

“Hmm.... these conversations aren’t nearly as fun with the ones who’ve been brain damaged. I was honestly expecting some sort of rebuttal. Perhaps you’ll be easier to contain than the others, after all- hmm?” 

There’s a knock on the door. 

“Let’s get you sorted and put away for the night,” She hums, going to the door. 

I close my eyes and drift off- easily. Nothing on body is working.... but something is telling me that going to sleep may ease some of that. 

It’s the clearest thought I have- so I follow it. 

This is the new ‘now’. And the world is only a ‘now’. There is no ‘after’ and there is no ‘before’. 

As the... chemical... the drug.... sets... in... I am...

Fuck. 

What am I? 

Who....

Too much. 

Maybe I’ll find the answers while I sleep. 

I just... don’t.. remember anything. 

I can’t.. focus. 

I....

“Right mess you have here,” Someone over me says. 

“Your recommendations?” 

“Steady stream of narcotics. You could actually have an interesting little prize here.” 

“He is the crown jewel of my collection.” The shiny lipped man says. “The last of his kind.” 

“Really?” 

“Well... figuratively.” He says with a laugh. “But the point remains. See to it that his brain doesn’t acquire any more... damage. Eventually, I’d like to have a word from him.” 

Fuck. 

“Well, we should have thought about that before shooting him with 11 times the recommended dose of .. you know what,” He whispers. 

“In all fairness- my men didn’t drug him. It was those air headed Santinos.” 

“I thought you’d come to an agreement with them,” The mystery voice says. 

“Their Don and I have had several meetings.... he listens as well as a Don could be expected too.” 

“Which is not at all.” The mystery voice laughs. 

“Exactly.” The man says with a groan. “Get him sleep ready.” He says. “I have to stay with him tonight and I have a shoot tomorrow.” 

“Oh? And what will you be blessing the world with on this episode, hmm?” 

“Sharing, caring, washing your hands, eating your vegetables- whatever other useless bullshit my writers tell me to teach the youth of America.” 

He.... has a show?   
For kids?

“Do you require any uppers for your performance?” The mystery man asks. “I know how those 10 hour shoots drain you so.” 

“Eh... maybe a nip of something or another,” He says. 

“I will leave your prescription in your dressing room.” The man injects me with several things, takes my pulse, presses on my stomach- I’m now in a state of numbness. “There we go,” He says. “No OD’s in this house. My job is done.” 

“Thank you for your service.” The shiny lipped man says. “Now... “ 

My eyesight is so blurry I can’t see a thing past my nose. 

“It’s time for sleep, darling,” He whispers over me. “We can explore your new world in the morning- hmm? Maybe then you’ll have some words for Daddy?” 

.....Daddy??

“Ah I see that one word was able to break through the walls,” He teases. “I have to admit.... you have a lot of issues, my duckling, but your ones with your father...... something so Freudian. Something so.. just... delightful. That’s where we’re going to have our fun.” 

F-uck. 

I... can’t... 

Respond. 

“Good night , love,” The man says sweetly. “I’ll be right here if you need me.” 

That seems... more like a threat than a comfort. 

But... 

Oh fuck. 

I can’t... keep.. it.. straight. 

There... is no..  
Fuck. 

I just need sleep.


End file.
